Falling: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance Boxed Set

by Tessa Clarke

  Astrid looked at Chance, who was covered in blood, had open gashes everywhere on his body, and held one arm gingerly against his abdomen. She thought of Gavin’s hurtful words and her big bones and her own doubts about whether Chance could love her.

  Was she wolverine?

  No, she was Tris.

  Chance’s Tris.

  She shook her head. “Not a chance am I skiing down the miner’s road with you, my love. You need to be evaced. But the rest of my life. That I will consider.”

  It was nightfall before they reached Chance’s cozy little house on Sun Valley Road. Astrid marveled at its quaintness, the workmanship in the post and beam structure, the kitchen stuffed with high-end pots, pans, and knives, and the gigantic bathroom with a view of the mountains and sunken tub.

  She paused in the sumptuous living room filled with leather furniture and books, and looked back at Chance, his arm in a sling and his face and body a medley of bandages, thanks to Dylan’s careful work.

  It had taken almost all day before they’d cleared Sweet Susannah of coyote bodies and turned over the snow to cover the worst of the blood. The snow had started again mid-afternoon, covering the trees and rocks with a mantle of white. By tomorrow, nobody would know anything had happened, save for the smell of blood and death.

  Despite Bentley’s predictions, Dylan hadn’t fired her, and Flynn did a long double take when he saw her standing in the middle of the run overseeing the clean up. She was the patroller with the most seniority. If she was on the run, she was in charge.

  She gave Flynn a long look back and a rueful smile. She and Flynn would never have worked out. He was always too busy entertaining clients, not to mention singing and dancing. And he was way too short. What had she been thinking? Part way through the day a lynx female joined him, and their obvious joy and connection almost made Astrid tear up.

  Gabe had been dispatched with the message that any shifter who wasn’t prepared to tolerate the wild ones and cat shifters should get out and never come back. Cade had taken down Lothoren in a heroic leap into a spruce from the cliffs at the top of the run, and Dylan, Flynn, and Cade had agreed to meet with Rowan, when Cade returned from his honeymoon to discuss some selective closures of the mountain to better preserve a tract of land for the wild ones. There would be skiers who ducked the ropes of course. There always were. But at least it would give them some greater privacy and freedom.

  And now she was with Chance, in Chance’s house, thinking about forever.

  “Did you build this for…” She couldn’t say the words. And it didn’t matter if he’d built it for Susie. Susie was gone and Astrid was not going to compete with a ghost.

  “I built it over the past two years, after Susie died,” he said, his voice ragged. “I built it for myself, and for you, Tris.”

  She went to him and carefully kissed around the stitches on his face.

  “Didn’t you promise me a hot shower?” she said.

  He gave a half smile, the stitches on his cheek catching. “Absolutely. Make yourself at home. I’m afraid I can’t join you until I’m a bit less cut up.”

  She left a trail of kisses down his sandpapery jaw. “You look like you need a sponge bath,” she whispered and was pleased to feel the answering surge of hardness against her thigh. “Just let me rinse off first, and then I’ll be right with you.”

  She luxuriated in the steaming shower, washing the grime of the smoke and the wedding away, massaging her clit and pussy, feeling the answering slickness. She slipped her fingers inside her aching mound and brought herself almost to orgasm, the lazy heat of the shower hypnotizing.

  But she didn’t linger. There was someone waiting for her. Someone excruciatingly hot, who loved her.

  She filled a bowl from the kitchen with hot water and soap, collected some towels, and went in search of Chance. She found him lying by a crackling fire, stripped down to his boxers, his broad muscled shoulders and ripped abs glowing. She sucked in a breath and her pussy executed some sort of somersault.

  She knelt beside him, letting her lips fall to his for a long kiss, before she began to carefully wash and dry every inch of him, her own body tingling with desire with every stroke and kiss.

  His giant cock stood at attention when she reached it. She had left it for last, except for a few surreptitious and gratuitous feels as she worked. She massaged it with the washcloth and then her hands, watching as glistening beads of moisture appeared at the tip.

  Frissons of desire ran down her legs and spine. She bent to taste his sweet salt, and was rewarded with Chance’s sharp intake of breath and gentle thrust deeper into her mouth. The smooth skin of his shaft grazed the back of her throat and she opened wider to take as much of him in as possible, sucking and licking his rod.

  She placed her hand on the base of his cock and started to stroke him. He groaned and rocked in and out of her mouth, his hands tangling in her hair and his balls slapping her chin. Her pussy was drenched with juices and she wanted to rise up and slam him inside of her. He reached down to cup her ass and she wiggled it closer to him. His fingers found her wetness and entered her with such sweet precision that thought she might faint. She stopped sucking for a second to let out her own moan of pleasure. He stroked again and again, driving her almost to coming as she tried to concentrate on his cock in her mouth with the waves of rapture washing over her.

  “I’m going to come,” he murmured, “and I want that tight little pussy around my cock when I do.”

  She obediently flipped around and positioned herself over his huge shaft, careful not to hit any of his stitched wounds. Chance’s fingers found her nipples, and tweaked them into excited little knots as she lowered herself gently onto him, adjusting to his massive size.

  “You have the hottest little pussy in the world,” Chance said, his eyes half-lidded slits. He jerked up into her, first lightly, and then with more vigor as she became accustomed to him, and she threw her head back and reveled in the ride. They were both so wet, she slid easily over him, his weight and length filling her.

  Chance’s thrusts became more regular, more focused, his hands holding her ass firmly on his cock. He was going to come, and she felt herself rising to her own climax.

  She felt him watching her, waiting for her. Her soaked clit rubbed against his hard shaft as he fucked her, sending her into paroxysms of pleasure, and then she hit the point of no return. Her pussy clenched, and she cried out her pleasure in a loud shout.

  Chance let go with a loud grunt and spasmodic jerks into her cunt, filling her with hot come, while she rode out her orgasm.

  She felt his hands delicate on her back as she fell against his broad chest, still writhing with the delightful shudders rocking her body. He reached over and pulled a flannel throw over them.

  “I love the way you party, Tris,” he murmured.

  “Well, I am a party girl,” she said, burying her face in the hard muscles of his pecs.

  He tightened his arms around her. “You’re my party girl, and for the record, ten thousand nights with you would never be enough. I love you.”

  She rose and looked into his green eyes. She saw only truth there. And love. She bent and very softly kissed his lips. “I love you too, Chance.”

  And perhaps now she could learn to love the night too.

  Afterfall

  The Cat Shifters of White Peaks

  Bonus Short STory

  Cade And Alissa’s Wedding Night

  Alissa felt literally like she was walking on air as Cade guided her the last few feet down the hall to their suite in the Timber Wolf Lodge. The last of the guests were leaving, and she was so excited to be spending the night with her new husband.

  Cade stopped her in front of their door and went to punch the numbers into the keypad on the knob.

  “I still have a few surprises for you, Mrs. Danforth. Will you be Mrs. Danforth, or will you be Alissa Grey, independent woman of means who still likes to be f
ucked by her husband? Such a difficult decision, and one that I await the answer to, as long as it involves fucking,” Cade said, as he pressed his hard body against hers outside the door of their suite.

  Alissa giggled. She was a bit tipsy and drunk in love with her new husband. Husband—she almost couldn’t believe it. Everything he said seemed uproariously funny and sexy at the same time. She studied his square jaw already dotted with dark stubble and his meltingly hot brown eyes, and wondered if her giddiness, or hunger, for Cade would ever go away.

  Would she be Mrs. Danforth, or would she keep her last name? She hadn’t decided, and Cade hadn’t pressed her. Her heart did a little flip at the prospect of what was to come in their bedroom that night, and she closed her eyes and let out a little moan.

  She opened her eyes to find Cade watching her, the set in his lips telling her that he was turned on.

  “I love the fact that I don’t even have to touch you for you to be making those cute little noises,” he said.

  Alissa snorted and lifted her lips for a very thorough and electrifying kiss.

  The white lights laced through the rafters of the Timber Wolf Lodge still sparkled, and she could hear Jason, the lodge manager, ushering the rest of their guests out. Ski patrollers and freeskiers never wanted the party to be over. Alissa didn’t either. She just wanted it to become a private party.

  It had been a big day—the biggest of her life—and a long day, with some surprises, like Renate and Astrid’s almost fistfight and Flynn’s announcement of his love for Zoey. But it seemed like it had all been resolved, and she wasn’t tired in the slightest. She was excited for her first night as Cade’s wife. As Mrs. Danforth. She was still trying the name on for size.

  Cade withdrew a silky red piece of material from his pocket. A scarf? He held it up gently to her face. “Are you okay with this?” he asked, his lips meeting hers.

  A blindfold.

  She nodded and Cade wrapped it around her eyes and tied it tightly. Alissa absorbed the darkness, Cade’s breathing, scent, and touch becoming suddenly more pronounced.

  “What could you possibly surprise me with that you haven’t already given me?” she said. It was true. When she’d first met and fallen for Cade, he had been her ski guide for the day. But it turned out that he was one of the owners of White Peaks Ski Resort. Her engagement ring, a stunning square-cut diamond in a platinum band, shone on her finger. His house—their house now—was a gorgeous Tudor on an acreage. He’d given her a beautiful wedding, and they were flying to Jamaica tomorrow afternoon. And he was Cade—her muscled, hotter-than-hell, thoughtful, hilarious, sexy, dynamite-on-skis panther shifter. That in and of itself was more than enough of a surprise.

  She felt his breath on her neck, the graze of his lips along her jawline. Her pussy fluttered at his very proximity. What could he surprise her with?

  “These are small surprises,” he said, “but I think you’ll find them enjoyable.”

  His lips took hers and his hands fell to her generous breasts. She could already feel the steel of his erection. She had felt it all night, while they were dancing, while they were kissing for their guests, while they were stealing quiet moments. They’d slipped away to deserted meeting room for a quickie after the photos. Alissa had pretended she was Cade’s assistant as he took her over the desk. It was all so very delightfully naughty, and she loved him for it.

  She heard the click of the door handle and then the door behind her fell away. She stepped backwards, and Cade guided her in to their suite. The room was warm, and she heard the sound of a fire crackling. He walked her further into the center of the room, and she could feel the flames on her cheeks.

  His hands fell to her shoulders, and then the zipper of her dress. He slid it slowly down, his lips tracing the length of her spine and pausing just on the curve of her ass.

  She was so turned on already. She arched her back and shimmied her buttocks, which he obligingly cupped with his hands.

  Then his cell phone rang. Cade stiffened, and then he slid her zipper slowly up.

  “Sorry babe,” he whispered. “I have to check. We left a lot of people to ski down in the dark with more than a little booze in their systems. I gave Stefanie my number in case anything went wrong.”

  Alissa gulped, her rapture disrupted. “It’s okay,” she replied. Cade had to take this call. Stefanie was the ski patroller in charge and responsible for ensuring everyone got down okay. Alissa had become used to the all-consuming nature of running a resort. The number of phone calls had been worse in the last month with Cade’s mother Renate organizing the wedding. At least those calls would cease now.

  Alissa started imagining herself writing her name as Mrs. Danforth while Cade fished around in his tux pocket for his phone.

  “This is Greg Davis, is this Cade Danforth? I have a Mrs. Danforth here to speak to you.” Alissa heard a voice say when Cade had answered the call.

  “That’s funny,” Cade said, running a single finger up her arm. “I have a Mrs. Danforth here.”

  Alissa snorted. Cade was obviously a little drunk.

  “I’m afraid you misunderstand me, sir. I’m calling from White Peaks General Hospital. Are you the son of Mrs. Renate Danforth?”

  Cade withdrew his finger. “What’s happened?” he said.

  “Your mother has had a bit of a panic attack. She’d like to go home, but we’ve given her some heavy sedatives, and someone will need to pick her up and should probably stay with her for the night. She gave us your name and number.”

  “Oh,” Cade said, his voice flat. “I see.”

  “So you’ll come and get her then?”

  “Can’t she stay there for the night?”

  “They’ve transferred her to the psychiatric wing, and your mother is very insistent that she is not going to spend the night here. The doctor has referred her for counseling, but indicated that there’s no need for her to stay. It’s not exactly the most desirable place to spend the night.”

  “I understand,” Cade said. “I’ll be there in a bit.”

  Alissa pulled away the scarf to see Cade standing behind her with a forlorn expression on his face.

  “I’m so sorry, babe,” he said. “She just isn’t coping well with my Dad’s death… Shifters, we…”

  Alissa bit back her wave of frustration and went and placed her arms around Cade’s waist. “I know,” she said with a forced smile. “Shifters feel things stronger.”

  She knew. She was only half-shifter, but she knew. After all, what would she do if Cade died? But as a psychologist, she suspected that Renate was playing her son, just a little bit. Alissa’s father was dead too, but Elaine Grey wasn’t calling on Alissa and Cade’s wedding night. But it was also clear that Renate was lonely and hurting.

  With the scarf off her eyes, she also noticed that Cade had refurnished their suite on top of the mountain with some very interesting looking furniture—a wavy chaise lounge, and a fancy looking chair with handles and foot rests. What had he planned for the night?

  “She doesn’t have anybody else,” he said. “I can shift and be to the base in twenty minutes and then back in an hour. I’ll just take her home. I won’t stay with her. You could have a nap, or drink the champagne and eat the chocolate I stocked for us.”

  “Normally I never say no to chocolate, Cade. But I’m worried that you’re facilitating something with your mother.”

  Cade’s face tightened and grew stormy. Alissa knew very well that he was going to protect his mother. She hated that Renate was almost putting Cade in a position where he had to pick between the two of them, especially on her and Cade’s wedding night. But she didn’t want to come between Cade and his mother, and she was fine, albeit a bit disappointed that she was not currently naked and under a shifter.

  Her shifter. Not his mother’s shifter.

  But if he went to Renate now, on this night, what would it mean for the future? Would he always go when his mother c
alled? And what would that mean for Alissa and Cade’s relationship?

  “I have to go,” he said. A muscle in his jaw flared. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I love you.” He pressed his lips against hers, and she kissed him back. She couldn’t have him run off into the dark on his wedding night thinking that she was angry with him. Even though she was, a little. She wanted Cade to pick her. But she also wanted to be understanding.

  “I love you too,” she said.

  Cade shed his tux, revealing his lanky and buff body, his partial erection. Alissa felt a flutter of desire in her groin. He never failed to arouse her. She studied his hard ass, broad, muscled shoulders, and powerful quads. They were hers, all hers, and when he came back, he would own her, as her husband—but just in the carnal sense of course. She suppressed a little smile at her own self-talk, a rather pitiful attempt to cheer herself up. She probably needed some self-talk reminding herself that she was a babe. Then again, did babes get deserted on their wedding night for their husband’s mother?

  Cade looked back over his shoulder one last time, then went out to the deck, shifted, and leapt from the balcony, a graceful and powerful surge of black against the night sky.

  The tears came unbidden, and unwelcome to Alissa’s eyes. This was supposed to be the best night of her life. She wasn’t supposed to be sitting here alone. Mrs. Danforth, indeed. How could she take the name Mrs. Danforth when Cade’s mother already seemed to have the job tied down?

  But she was being ridiculous. She had her whole life with Cade ahead of her, including two weeks in Jamaica starting tomorrow, where Renate couldn’t bother them, could she?

  Alissa selected one of the salted caramels from the box on the counter, sank onto the chaise lounge, and fished her phone from her purse.